Before I was able to ride my bicycle with both girls, I had a handful of less than desirable experiences with public transit. I will admit that I was doubting just what the heck we’ve been trying to do here. But then about seven weeks ago I got back on my bike and I felt the magic all over again. I realized that all my huffing and puffing is less about how we’ve chosen to transport ourselves and more about the season of life we are in. Navigating the city by car, bus, bike, or foot, with little people, is just challenging. Usually getting out the door, is the hardest part. But when we eventually do, we are well on our way to our happy place. I know that once we all get to our cargo bike, everything is going to be okay. More than okay. In fact, I’ve never had a mood too cranky or a body too tired to resist the joy of riding my bicycle. At the very least it’s functional and fun, at best it is life-giving and transforming. Most days it’s the latter.

On my bicycle, I am the laid back, patient and present mama I’ve always wanted to be. I am so present that sometimes we don’t make it to our original destination, because we find birds to chase, roses to smell and strangers to wave to and mingle with. It’s a time and place where we are completely unplugged. Having uninterrupted and meaningful conversations together feels effortless. Octave can inquire about the world around her and we aren’t going so fast that I miss all the scenes that inspire her questions. My head is clear and my heart is happy and pumping from a load that is quite heavy, albeit full of good things. Our bicycle is one of the few places where there is little to no crying and we can almost always bet on a nap if and when our apartment fails us. It’s how and where I get most of my exercise these days, but it serves a purpose AND it’s free! Even with winter and rain drawing near, most days it’s one of my favorite places to be. I am beginning to think that pedaling my family through our days might be the most simple and rewarding adventure I’ve embarked upon.